


Maleficent's Bath

by Cantatrice18



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M, Understanding, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a day when Diaval has been sent to the castle to spy, Maleficent decides to go to the river for a bath. Unfortunately, Diaval comes home early, and ends up seeing more than he planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maleficent's Bath

He circled the high tower three times just to be certain, but Stephan did not leave his study, nor did any messenger approach the castle from afar. Satisfied, Diaval wheeled and turned towards the moors, flying into the pink and gold light of sunset. His mistress would no doubt be wanting him.

…

Though Maleficent normally avoided bathing except in the darkest hours of the night, the crisp autumn air and the sound of the river as it wended its way through the moors tempted her too much to refuse. She sought out a secluded pool where she knew few magical creatures visited, careful to make sure she was not followed, and settled herself on the riverbank beneath a large willow tree. Once there she removed her clothing, placing it in a neat pile at the base of the tree trunk, and waded slowly into the shallow water. A light wind rustled the leaves overhead and she closed her eyes, imagining every inch of the Moorlands that the wind had passed over on its journey to her. Had it passed over Stephan’s castle as well? No, this wind was from the north, where the snowcapped mountain peaks held dominion over all creatures, human or beast. She savored the moment, moving farther into the water until it lapped around her waist like a gentle caress. In that moment she felt all her cares slip away.

…

Diaval searched the moors for his mistress, checking the throne, the ruins, everywhere he knew she would normally be, but to no avail. Finally a passing flock of sparrows told him they’d seen Maleficent heading towards the northernmost bend in the river. Thanking the flock for their kindness, he flew in the indicated direction, slowing only when the river came into view. He glided over the treetops until he heard the unmistakable rustle of some large animal nearby. Choosing the closest branch, he ducked beneath the leaves and waddled awkwardly forward for a better view. The sight before him took his breath away. Maleficent stood midstream, the late afternoon sun setting her whole body aglow with rosy light. Her chestnut hair fell in waves down her back, but as she bent towards the water it shifted to one side, revealing her in her entirety, and Diaval could not help but cry out in shock, his caw echoing through the silent woods.

…

She had just dipped her hands into the water to begin her bath when she heard it, a sound that made her blood run cold. She spun, pinpointing the source of the noise even as she struggled vainly to cover herself. The sound had been terribly familiar, and as her gaze darted around she saw the unmistakable shadow of a raven hiding among the branches. “Diaval!” she yelled, her voice tight with emotion. “Come out, at once!”

A moment passed, then a large black shape dropped to the ground at the base of the tree. Though a part of her wanted to strike him down at once, she knew such feelings were a product of her fear and embarrasment at being caught in so vulnerable a position. Instead she waved a hand, transforming hollow bones to solid, and feathers to human flesh. When the transformation was finished, she stared at her servant with cold eyes. “Explain yourself.”

Diaval would not meet her gaze. “The reports from the castle, mistress. I bring today’s news.”

“And you could not have waited?”

“I didn’t know. How could I?” Diaval protested, glancing up at her and then quickly back at the ground again. 

Maleficent snapped her fingers at the clothes she’d abandoned earlier, and they flew to her at once. When she was satisfied that she was decently covered she strode out of the water to stand over her kneeling servant. “We will speak of it no more. Report to me as we walk, leaving out no detail.”

…

As they left the riverbank Diaval heard himself recite mechanically all of the castle’s goings on. His mind was not on his report, but on what he’d just seen on his mistress’s body: the raw scars and exposed bones near her shoulder blades where a creature’s wings would normally sit. He’d heard rumors about her, about how she’d once been the Protector of the Moors until she’d lost her wings, but he’d never stopped to think of how such a thing had occurred. Now, seeing the evidence of such a loss for himself, he felt a sudden surge of empathy for his mistress. The thought of losing his wings forever, of being a flightless raven, filled him with sick terror. He would never wish such a fate on anyone, particularly not the beautiful woman he served. The thought of the other things he’d seen, the gentle curves of her breasts and hips, sparked an entirely new sensation within him, but he shook it off and followed Maleficent back up into the hills. She needed him at his best, and he never wanted to disappoint her, nor see that look of fear in her eyes, again.


End file.
